[This short piece recently got rejected by a web publisher whom I will not name, but whom I can't really blame for rejecting it. Not entirely sure of its merits, but I like it.]

My apologies that the first-quarter newsletter is so late. I broke my collarbone after a mishap on the slopes—Jenkins, you scamp!—and the injury left me useless as a typist. What’s changed? you’re probably asking, am I right? Luckily, Susie from accounting knew of a voice recognition program that will allow me to continue with my vital duty of informing you, our valued shareholders, about the profitability or unfortunate lack thereof of DynaFlex Inc. Thank you Susie! Such wonderful technology!

But to begin, ahem. We struggled during the quarter due to the unfortunate collapse of the hold on. Is struggled the right word? Delete. Is this how I delete? Delete. Go to the part about the struggled. Hover over that word. Backspace backspace backspace. Delete. Backspace. How does this thing work? Is there no hovering? Do I just keep talking? Does it delete the stuff later? Hello? Delete.

We ran into difficulties during the quarter due to the unfortunate collapse of the Chinese construction market and again is collapse correct? Crap. Legal will need to see this, not to mention that dickweed Jenkins, and he’s not going to approve collapse oh what the. Delete delete. Escape. Is that like when I press the escape key? Escape escape. Okay now you’re just mocking me. Would you stop? Everything I say, really? You’re going to repeat everything I say verbate em and oh look at that you can’t even spell verbate em right. You useless piece of. Let me get a grip here.

… … … … What’s with the dots? Is that supposed to be silence? Do I have to say something at all times, is that it? Okay I can’t escape it. Fine. I’ll just keep talking. Watch me.

… … … … … All right all right all right just stop with the dots. Feeling a bit trapped, a little claustrophobic here. Oh I see you can spell claustrophobia big shot even I have a hard time with that one the r always messes me up. I always mess that word up always mess up so many things. Now you’re in my head. Am I even talking? You can hear this? Oh, right, I am talking. And there’s the typing, all that typing, a running recorder of everything I say and I can’t stop it there’s no going back I’ve just got to live with the ever ceaseless flow of thoughts and holy crap. Delete delete delete. I’m hyperventilating now. Just a bit.

How am I running an entire organization? Who put me in charge? I can’t even balance my checkbook and now I’ve got to write these shareholder letters but I missed like about two months of the quarter literally daydreaming I mean I didn’t pay a bit of attention because who’s gonna know, right? Who would ever know anything but what I tell them?

Oh here’s the inner critic thing my therapist told me about delete delete delete. Maybe this will work. Backspace. Delete. Inner critic be gone. Ha ha no didn’t work.

Breathe. That’s all I need to do. Breathe. You hear me? Yes you’re typing so I know you can hear me. How do I get back to the beginning of the letter? Can I ever get back? I want to start over. Start over. Fresh start, get rid of all this rubbish so far. Clean slate. Is that a code word? Abracadabra, clean slate, stop the words. Anything?

Control alt delete Now wha..

Reboot reboot reboot. Restart. Oh I see you caught all that ha ha funny joke.

Frustrated. Soooooo frustrated. This is what the inside of my head sounds like. How haven’t I noticed this before? It’s crazy in there and it just keeps going and going and going and nothing ever backtracks or edits itself or writes over anything it’s a mess a real mess a sloppy stream of my god it’s just crap I’m literally thinking a stream of crap  the entire day and I never knew. Now that I noticed it I can’t stop noticing it. A nightmare, a flat out nightmare, relentless, blah blah blah BLAH BLAH BLAH oh good you do all caps too. Can’t delete that, can I? Ha ha ha. Ha.

In conclusion, I’d like to take this opportunity to F seven. Nothing? Crap.



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    A former student and teacher of philosophy, I write a daily stock market/humor column for a major financial organization from my home base north of Austin, Texas. If I find any words lying around after deadline, I stuff them into a novel-in-progress. It turns out that these are usually the wrong words.


    May 2013